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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28282890">A Soldier's Confession</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AltheaShepard/pseuds/AltheaShepard'>AltheaShepard</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Soldier [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy XIV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Confessions, Feels, Fluff, I wrote this instead of sleeping cause it wouldn't leave me alone, M/M, heavy thinking</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:01:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,028</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28282890</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AltheaShepard/pseuds/AltheaShepard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>That timeless moment of the night is when truths come to light.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aymeric de Borel/Estinien Wyrmblood</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Soldier [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2020352</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Soldier's Confession</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He wakes in that timeless point of the night where the world beyond the window doesn’t exist and the dying embers in the hearth are the only light in the room. The canopy above the bed is a rich, luxuriant simulacrum of the night sky. The bed beneath his back is soft as a bed of clouds, the pillow beneath his head a bird’s wing on the wind. Around him, the sheets are warm, the blankets heavy but not oppressive. His limbs rest in their embrace with not a drop of steel to pull them taught. He floats in that space, eyes tracing over the silver threads in the canopy, the only part of him that moves aside from the rise and fall of his chest. In this space of weightlessness and quiet, his thoughts wander to dark corners they are pulled away from in the light of day. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Thoughts of strong hands holding his.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Thoughts of a warm laugh curling about his ears.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Thoughts of a gentle smile settling the unease in his chest. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Darker thoughts thread through with the warmth, nipping him with their chill. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Claws rending treasured flesh leaving his skin stained with treasured blood.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hatred seething and roiling in his chest, burning him from the inside out. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>How easy it would be to give in and let stone crumble and fall into the canyon below.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>All of these thoughts drift upon the winds of his mind in this currentless sea outside of normal time and space. Panic and fear ebb and flow, chased away by warmth and light which flitter away in the phantom scent of burning flesh in his nostrils and a mighty roar tearing at his throat. An endless circle of dark and light, possibility upon possibility, fantasy upon fantasy, memory upon memory. What could have been and what is, what has been, what can be. Each is felt in kind. Each is examined, considered, set aside. In this space of flickering shadow, glimmering thread and lingering warmth he is allowed to come to the conclusions he has been hiding from.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He could fall to corruption. He is a man and men are foolhardy and proud and stubborn. But they can also be loyal and strong and true.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The nightmares he has, dredged from memory and made worse by the cycle of what could have been will linger for a time before fading as his feet finally find the ground they’ve searched for for so long. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His hands, usually clenched tight around a weapon, poised to plunge into his enemy’s heart long now to reach for that grounding tether that floats just within reach. It beckons him, encourages him to grasp it so that he might be pulled into a gentle embrace, into a home he would always have. Has always had.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He loves him. By the Fury does he love him. Fiercely, unendingly, fearfully does he love him. Beautiful things are not his to keep, breaking in his hands with a misplaced breath or the barest twitch of his finger. Fear has stilled his hand more than once, stolen his breath, turned his back before he could cut himself open right down the middle to let his beloved see the truth of it all. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Little did he realize until now that his treasure already knew. So sparkling was his treasure that he could tease out his shadows and banish them with a warm word and a grounding touch. Without his notice, his treasure has settled at his back in a silent offer of support and companionship and… love. A love he remembers seeing those fathomless eyes that night he had been cradled so gently and told only the world was thought of him. A love so painfully resigned to never being fulfilled that only a fever brought the confession to his lips. And then it had only been because he had been thought a hallucination. Fear has kept his hands at his sides and his tongue still but now… in this space beyond the mortal world where darkness seeks to rip all and sundry to tatters… now he knows that fear need not exist with his treasure by his side.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He watches his treasure sleep, turned on his side towards him and one hand slightly outstretched should he need him in the night. He knows that should he reach for that hand his treasure may very likely wake, a soft inquiry on his lips and concern wrinkling his brow. His thumb smoothes over the skin between his eyebrows, already thinking of that frown. That frown that begins to form now with his touch. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Coal dark lashes, smudges of shadow on a pale cheek, flicker as heavy lids blink open. Deepest sapphire traces his shadow in the grey darkness, no doubt looking for signs of distress. But there is no distress now. There is only a settling peace with his choice, with his discovered truth. That outstretched hand shifts on the bed, long fingers brushing his bangs from his face to better see his eyes. Words are not needed to ask his question and so he gently catches that hand, drawing it to his lips to grace his knuckles with a fleeting kiss. The weightless world is slipping away from him as his treasure comes more awake but for once he is not afraid. His resolve does not waver as his treasure props himself up on his elbow to peer down at him in concern. He merely shifts onto his back, tucking himself slightly under the other and staring peacefully back.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you alright, Estinien?” his treasure whispers. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He presses a hand to his forehead to check for fever but his skin only holds the warmth of sleep. His arm comes up to curl around his treasure’s waist, keeping his grip loose as he can see the other’s concern growing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I am at peace,” he whispers in kind. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He catches the other’s hand again, twining their fingers in a loose grip. His treasure doesn’t know what to do. On the one hand him being at peace is a good thing for long has he been in turmoil both during the war and after. On the other, however, peace has never been a feeling he has admitted to.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You are… at peace?” His treasure repeats slowly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He nods, allowing a tiny yet tender smile to curl the corner of his mouth.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Aye. I have spent many a night with my treasure by my side and I have found that… that should he still wish it so… that I may be allowed to keep him. That I may be safe to allow him to keep me.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Even as concern gives way to panic gives way to confusion gives way to a sharp, piercing pang of hope, he does not falter. This is correct. This is the time. This… this is safe.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I am almost thinking I should call a chirurgeon for you. You seem to have… struck your head perhaps.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His head barely twitches in the negative as his fingers squeeze gently at the hand he’s trapped.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I know how you look at me, Aymeric. I know you will not say it as you are not one to force yourself on others. You do what is best for them even if that means holding your silence. Even if that causes you pain that you have held for I know not how long. And I will admit that… that fear has stayed my tongue. Fear has kept me from realizing my own truth. But now. I have nothing to fear.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His treasure draws in a shuddering breath, his body trembling minutely under his arm. A tongue darts out to wet his lips as his eyes trace over his face frantically to try and catch the lie.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And how do you think I look at you?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You look as though you wish to be the armor upon my back. The home that I return to. The wind to let me fly and the safety net to catch me when I fall.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You are my dearest frie--”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You look at me as a lover. As someone you wish to protect and nurture and cradle. As someone you would dearly wish to come home to.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His treasure’s throat bobs, a glimmer in the corner of his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“And I, my treasure, am finally able to admit that I have longed to share that glance with you. But my touch is so callous, my manner abrupt and somewhat scathing. I wished not to ruin you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You could never.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Aye. I know that now. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I accept that now.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Will you still have me? Will you still take me as your own?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His treasure is silent, sharp eyes watching him as he trembles. Slowly, painstakingly slowly, he settles a little closer, his fingers winding a little tighter around his. Hope burns bright in those eyes alongside a silent plea.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I fear this is a dream,” his treasure whispers, the puff of his breath just gracing his lips.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He glances to the window, noting the lightning of the sky beyond the thick pane of glass. With a slow blink he turns back to him, raising their joined hands to motion to the window. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“When the dawn comes I think you shall find this to be anything but a dream.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Soft lids hide pained and hopeful blue as his treasure presses his forehead to his shoulder, a silent determination to wait until dawn graces their bed chamber to see if he has in fact dreamed this. It certainly feels like a dream but he knows it isn’t. Still, he lets his eyes close as his thumb strokes slowly over hip and hand, shifting to nuzzle lightly into dark curls. Around them, the room begins to lighten. Minutes pass as hours and where normally panic would seize his breast it is absent this morning, his heart full of contentment and confidence. Safety. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Slowly Aymeric’s head rises from his shoulder, cautious eyes searching out his own. He swallows thickly and wets his lips again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell me again,” he requests.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I am safe with you, my treasure. And I wish to be always. As more than just a comrade. As more than just a dear friend. As your lover.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The sound that comes out of Aymeric’s mouth breaks through the haze, the man drawing back away from him to cover his face with shaking hands dumping ice over his head. He sits up alarmed or starts to. Rather, before he’s even half way up he’s knocked flat again, soft, full, warm, </span>
  <em>
    <span>glorious</span>
  </em>
  <span> lips pressing against his own. It is impossible to tell where one starts and the other begins as arms curl around shoulders, fingers tangle in hair and breath shifts from one chest to the other. The kiss is broken by a chuckle, Aymeric once more burning his face in the curve of his neck. His breath tickles against his skin sending a shiver racing down his spine but he doesn’t mind it. Instead, his arms curl tighter around him, one hand cradling his head as he rolls them both over to settle above him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Joy, pure and full and bright, spills from Aymeric’s eyes as a smile to match curls his lips and flushes his cheeks. Those hands he so adores come up to cradle his face, warm and perfect enough to sink into with a pleased hum. He’s drawn into another kiss as he settles his weight over the other man.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You are always safe with me, Estinien.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The words whispered against his lips have him surging up to chase them, pressing the other man into the bed as heat surges through his chest, peace flooding his veins and satisfaction leadening his limbs and rumbling his chest.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I know that now. Thought Fury knows what I did to deserve it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Aymeric chuckles and scratches his nails across his scalp and neck sending more shivers down his spine. He can’t help but nuzzle under the man’s chin and press his lips to a sharp jawline until he reaches that delightful mouth. A mouth that continues to trade promises with him as the sun rises.</span>
</p>
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